


Maid Service

by SmartyCat



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: F/M, Rape/Non-con References, Romance, Sexual Content, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-09
Updated: 2006-03-09
Packaged: 2017-10-21 17:57:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/228002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmartyCat/pseuds/SmartyCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oneshot. Relena gets more than she bargained for when she decided to pretend to be a maid for a day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maid Service

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first entry in the 2006 Church of Lemons over on the Love Reflection II mailing list. Also, this fic contains implications of non-consensual sex. (Rose's long awaited maid smut request lends itself extremely well to unequal power dynamics.) Some may be offended by the sexual content, but "implications" is the operative word. Not actualities. And, heck, let's plaster an OOC warning on it for good measure!
> 
> Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is owned by Sunrise and Sotsu Agency and distributed in America exclusively under license by Bandai Entertainment. I own nothing but the dvds and the manga.
> 
> I also owe a bit of a debt of inspiration to a certain long ago Preventer Wind/Beckster/Beck fic.

_For the Black Rose_

 **Maid Service**

by

 **Smarty Cat**

 

Occasionally one discovers the most unexpected things in the most unexpected places. For example, the young former guerilla known simply by the assumed alias Heero Yuy, touted by many as a force of nature himself, discovered the full, destructive, mischievous force of mother nature herself while in a tree.

What was Heero Yuy doing in a tree one might wonder?

Why, the answer should be self-evident. He was doing what young former guerillas known simply by the assumed alias Heero Yuy do best.

Heero Yuy was lurking in the shadows.

Heero Yuy was watching over (but not spying on; oh, no, never that) his chosen attractive young ward.

Heero Yuy was desperately wishing that his military issue, high-powered binoculars with night vision capabilities had come with automated wipers installed on the lenses.

Heero Yuy, as it turns out, was violently allergic to apple blossoms.

How did he come to this earth-shattering realization?

The tree he perched in just happened to be an apple tree in the full bloom of spring.

And Heero Yuy just happened to be sneezing his head off.

Why was he still perched like a watchful, seizing hawk in that tree of all trees after undergoing such torment at the petals of its insidious, pastel blossoms?

The vantage point meant everything to proper reconnaissance.

And, oh, what big binoculars Heero Yuy had!

The better to see a certain Relena Darlian with, of course.

Aforementioned certain Relena Darlian just happened to be bustling about in the room below in a little black maid's outfit.

As Heero squirmed uncomfortably in his hellish pastel perch and sneezed yet again, he reflected that one day Relena simply would have to explain to him how prancing around in a little, flounced black skirt with a feather duster built character. Based upon the way she spun the feather duster like a baton before sweeping it into what appeared to be a salsa dance, she seemed to be indulging herself, which certainly could not be good for her character. And surely lacy black garters, strappy black heels, and sheer black stockings were not conducive to improving one's inner strength.

They were certainly having an adverse effect on his own willpower and assorted other parts of his being. His breath seemed to be tight in a way that had nothing whatsoever to do with allergies for instance, and his pants were far tighter than they had been fitted to be.

If the old man had not left Heero might have been forced into some sort of drastic action to defend Relena's honor.

Because really who could resist ogling that?

Well, except for the former guerrilla known as Heero Yuy of course. Heero Yuy had willpower.

And willpower consigned itself to Hades quite gladly as he wiped off the binoculars yet again and raised them just in time to see Relena do a little pirouette between the settee and the grand piano. The movement sent the little flounced skirt flying and revealed where those sheer black stockings and lacy black garters stopped and creamy, smooth skin began.

Something dark and twisted stirred inside him at the forbidden sight of that striking contrast of colors and textures. It roared into life as she bent at the waist in order to polish a low end table. If she had been facing directly away from the window rather than at an angle then nothing would have been hidden to his rapt gaze.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

"Oh, fuck it!" he snarled, his voice deep and hoarse and positively animalistic as a result of his sneezing fits.

Heero slammed his quite expensive, military issue, high-powered binoculars with night vision capabilities but no automated wipers installed on the lenses against the apple tree's trunk with a sharp crack. Tiny slivers of nearly shattered lenses rained over his hand. He growled.

Nothing.

Absolutely, positively nothing.

He flung himself from his perch without further thought, dropped through the branches in a shower of poisonous but aesthetically pleasing apple blossoms, and hit the ground almost running. Actually he hit the ground sneezing up a storm, landed quite hard, and rolled around for a bit cursing before leaping to his feet and running for the house, but it was okay because the former guerilla known as Heero Yuy knew how to fall from reasonably high places without damaging something permanently, if he were so inclined. Which he was inclined, because who would want to cripple himself with Relena doing pirouettes and leg extensions in a short black skirt, lacy black garters, strappy black heels, and sheer black stockings? Certainly not Heero Yuy.

Fuck it indeed.

xxx

Relena hummed happily as she bustled about the ornate sitting room. Sure the dark wig was a bit itchy and the heels a bit higher than she was accustomed to, but she could see absolutely no reason to let any trifles such as mere physical discomfort ruin her enjoyment of some much needed alone time while she pretended to be someone completely different from Relena Darlian, world famous diplomat.

Movement from the corner of her eye drew her gaze to the magnificent picture window that framed an old growth apple tree shaking in the breeze, the only tree that had been allowed to remain when the land was razed in order to build the new, rather opulent mansion she was currently supposed to be cleaning.

Relena used the word cleaning in the loosest sense possible, of course. The music room at least was already essentially spotless from the regular cleaning it got from the real staff, and she was not about to waste a private afternoon cleaning the remaining twenty rooms.

As she played a few idle chords on the elegant grand piano, she smiled secretly. It really was much too unfortunate that old gentleman had been called away unexpectedly in order to settle some accounts. He really had seemed quite taken by the young temp maid assigned to him for the day. Although Relena could be quite charming when the need for it arose, she was quite sure that the outfit had probably helped a great deal in that regard. But an apologetic smile, a bit of a fib, a jaunty wave, and an expression of sorrow to see him go and away he went.

And she was alone, blessedly alone for at least an hour before the mistake would be straightened out. Factor in travel time back and forth to his accountant's office, and Relena felt quite pleased with her little window of solitude.

As Relena tried to figure out how to occupy herself without excessively snooping into the old man's personal affairs, she noticed an incredibly old but pristine victriola tucked away in a corner. She smiled delightedly as she picked a record at random with the stack beside it and put the needle down.

A driving Latin beat filled the air, and Relena swept her feather duster out into the air in front of her as she moved her feet into a hip shaking salsa. The victriola wound down much too soon a mere three minutes later, and Relena ended her salsa with a bit of a shimmy, giggling at herself. However, she did not stop dancing and transitioned smoothly from the salsa into ballet movements that she had not practiced since secondary school.

Humming under her breath and moving at her own beat and pace, she pirouetted across the floor between the piano and the settee. The unanticipated moment of playfulness left her energized enough to add enthusiasm to her swipes with the duster across a low end table. Even the pampered Relena Darlian knew what all who labored knew: cleaning was not so much a chore when one could dance!

She glided back over to the piano and carefully took the prop stick down before lowering the lid of the piano with both hands until it was fully closed. Relena trailed her fingers over the keys again as she retrieved her duster from the bench. It was a lovely piano, every elegant and well tuned. The old man must take very good care of it, and she could only do the same.

Relena ran her feather duster over its top in great sweeping swirls in preparation to polish the lovely surface. As she did so she happened to look out the window again. A small frown creased her forward at the sight of the large pile of recently fallen blossoms lying underneath the apple tree. She raised her eyes and noted that the branches were still quivering faintly. The wind must be gusting quite hard at times to cause so much destruction when she looked away yet to seem so benign beneath her gaze.

While Relena gazed obliviously out into the sunlight, something dark and distinctly predatory had slipped into the room behind her unnoticed. A flicker in the dark reflection of the glass disturbed her reverie and she stiffened. The air of the room had changed without her realizing it, and the hair rose on the back of her neck as she gazed petrified at the distortion in the class. The daylight made its image shadowy ironically enough, but she knew that whatever was it the room with her was something wild, primitive, and dangerous. And it was something that looked very much like the form of a man, which was the most terrifying of all.

She licked her lips nervously, adrenaline coursing through her body and leaving her shaky. Relena shoved herself away from the surface of the piano, but a weight crashed against her back and pinned her there. Her hand scrabbled for her duster, which she had dropped in her fright, but a hand grabbed the back of her head and shoved her flat against the piano top. Her breath hitched and a second hand covered her mouth.

It was a pointless gesture, but he could not possibly realize it. She was too startled to scream and could not have yelled for help regardless of how much she wanted it. What good would it have done anyway with her alone in the big mausoleum of a house? She knew it was futile, and she wagered the man behind her knew it too or else he never would have appeared.

"Don't move."

The dark, hoarse voice stirred the fine hairs around her ear, and she trembled. It was low and deep, and she could feel the vibration of his words in her body. Relena shook her head to signify that she would not struggle and bit down a whimper as she felt the man's teeth on her neck.

"Fuck it, I said don't move!"

Relena froze completely and did not even breathe, but even that could not prevent her body's trembling.

"Good," he purred with dark satisfaction, running his tongue across the shell of her ear as he removed his hand from her mouth. "Now, remember, be quiet."

He stepped forward, forcing her into the side of the piano. It bit into her stomach, and she coughed. He squeezed her thigh warningly and slid his hand further beneath her skirt, snapping one of the straps of her garters against her skin painfully. She jerked and he allowed her to partially straighten. However, his body remained firmly pressed against hers, and she could feel his arousal pressing against her backside.

The short, flounced skirt of the maids uniform provided no resistance at all to his seeking hands, and he cupped her bottom, grinding himself against it in a manner that left her gasping before sliding his hands back up along the outside of her skirt to span her waist.

Relena glanced down between her arms. She could barely see his hands. They were a young man's hands, calloused but unwrinkled. Not the old man. A laborer then or a common housebreaker who had seized an exceptionally sweet opportunity. His skin was darker than her own, though whether due to dirt or sun or sheer genetics, she could not say. They were also larger than Relena's own hands, but not as large as her those of her father or brother, the only other men who had ever held her in such a manner, and even then not at all like this man held her. There was nothing on his hands to identify him.

The maid uniform loosened as he untied the sash and pulled it away from her waist. The silky cloth trailed across her collarbone as the hand holding it grabbed her shoulder and pulled upward while his other tugged at her waist. He wanted to her to straighten further so he could more easily tie it on her Relena realized.

Her teeth ground together and her hands clenched into fists as outraged coursed through her body. How dare he assume that she would be a willing party to her own assault! It was a slim chance, but Relena seized it. She pushed away from the piano violently and surged into a standing position, slamming her elbow back into his midsection and darting outside the circle of his arms.

She made it less than a step before his hand grabbed her hair in an attempt to immobilize her. She heard him curse with shock as he yanked the wig from her head. Relena made it two more steps before his arm caught her waist in a viselike grip and he lifted her off her feet, dragging her back to the piano. She shrieked in anger and fear and kicked and struggled and clawed at his arms, but he was so much stronger. So very much stronger.

"Well, well. What have we here? Playing dress up?"

He sounded amused, damn him to hell, and Relena attempted to use her strappy black heels to impale his foot, but he unfortunately dodged her stomp. He stroked his fingers along the knot of her golden hair and down side of her cheek before slamming her back against the piano. She cried out, and the black sash descended over her eyes and tightened about her head, stealing her vision. Immediately every other sense came alert, zeroing in on the man looming at her back.

"Please don't hurt me," she whispered, limp now that all the fight had been knocked out of her.

He did not respond, and that silence frightened her more than any threat or insincere reassurance ever could.

He hemmed her body against the piano with his, and they fit together tightly. He was not much taller than she was Relena noted, but it would still not be enough to identify him by. He ripped the pins from her hair, and the long gold strands tumbled down around her. He brushed her hair away from her neck and bit the exposed back of it again. Electricity seemed to travel down the length of Relena's spine and she shivered, hating herself because she did not find it unpleasant. Degrading and unsolicited but not unpleasant. His tongue soothed the marks left by his teeth before his mouth traveled up to nip the sweet spot just beneath her ear as he rocked his hips into her.

He exhaled into her air with a groan, and his voice was rasping as he demanded, "Do you have any idea what you look like?"

Relena thought it seemed most prudent not to respond that she could not see a damn thing thanks to him, but he did not seem to expect an answer. He certainly did not waste any time sliding his hands up her arms, raking her with the tips of his nails and sending more of those maddening electric shivers coursing through her. He grasped both sleeves of her uniform and ripped the shoulder seams of her top. It fell down her shoulders and arms, exposing the edges of the black lacy bustier that had been so helpfully supplied and which so perfectly matched the black lacy garters and coordinating black lacy panties. Those calloused, young man's hands came up, cupped her breasts, and pinched the nipples painfully through the lace.

Relena yelped and twisted in his arms.

"Do I need to gag you too?" he demanded, not sounding at all disappointed by the idea.

Relena's eyes flew wide open behind the blindfold. "No!"

He chuckled, massaging the soft flesh of her breasts and tweaking her nipples into hard little points. "It feels good, right? This feels good, doesn't it, princess?"

Relena shook her head and bit her lips to keep her pants to a minimum. Her legs quivered.

"Answer me!"

His teeth scraped her neck in perfect tune with a particularly stimulating tug, and she cried out, "Yes!"

"Yes what?" he ground out ruthlessly.

"What?" Relena repeated, her lips rounding in confusion. Was he mad as well as violent?

He shoved her against the piano with force again, and she stumbled on her heels, nearly wrenching an ankle. "What do maids say to their masters, princess?"

"Sir," she replied, a sinking feeling of hopelessness filling her with the word. He was forcing her and she was going along with it so he would not hurt her. What kind of a horrible person was she?

"So what do you say when I ask if you're enjoying it?"

"Yes, sir." She bowed her head, and her hands hung uselessly at her sides, curled into loose fists.

"Good."

His hands glided down her stomach and dipped into the valley between her legs before sliding back out over her thighs, leaving a trail of stimulation in his wake. Although blind, Relena was intensely aware of his presence at her back and his hands on her body. He enclosed her hands within his and lifted them. With him stretched so completely over her, she realized that he was indeed not so much larger than she was although he was more than large enough. She was grateful that he was not so big that his weight felt crushing because she was sore and oversensitive enough as it was. He pressed her hands flat onto the surface of the piano. It was shockingly cold in contrast to her warm, sweaty hands.

"Keep them there," he ordered as he removed his hands from atop hers. However, his weight did not leave her nor did the lips and tongue marking her neck and shoulders.

Relena felt sickened by herself. Through all of it, she had not found his ministrations to be particularly unpleasant. She was sick. And the hoarse, raspy voice in her ear was not sexy. It was not!

"You let me do this to you," he whispered, voicing her hated thoughts aloud, and she could feel his sharp smile against her skin as he reached beneath her skirt.

"No, sir!" she snapped in panic at the truth of it.

"You let me do this to you, princess," he repeated silkily. "Would you let just anyone do this to you?" He stroked the length of her panties, and she gave a strangled moan. He chuckled. "You're so wet already. Does cleaning turn you on that much? Or do you like this? Do you want to be fucked, Relena Darlian?"

As he spoke, he flicked a finger against her clitoris, sending unexpected little shockwaves through her body. "Relena Darlian?" she repeated dazedly.

"Pretty little French maid. Miss Re-le-na," he breathed against her hair as his fingers slipped beneath the fabric of her panties and slid inside her.

Relena gasped as his knowledge of her identity registered and twisted with renewed vigor in an attempt to escape.

"Ah ah, you're the one who wanted to play dress up and mock the commoners. There are consequences for everything, princess."

"I wasn't--"

He interrupted her with a stinting slap to her buttocks with his unoccupied hand. "Say 'Yes, sir.' Like you mean it."

"No, sir," Relena ground out between clenched teeth, her anger overcoming all fear and shame for a moment. "I don't know what you hope to gain by doing this, but--"

He cut her off with a bitter laugh. "Gain? One hell of a fuck, princess. Nothing more. Nothing less."

Her inner muscles involuntarily clenched around his fingers at his crude language, and she sputtered in surprise, her back arching against him at the feel of it. In her anger she had forgotten they were there.

"Like that, huh?"

He ripped the black lacy panties that so perfectly matched the black lacy garters and black lacy bustier, and she shivered as the air of the room reached her skin without interruption. The hand on her hip retreated, and she heard the sound of a zipper being pulled. The feeling of bare skin touching bare skin, although not unexpected, nevertheless rocked her to her core. Relena became intensely aware of every fiber in her body, every synapse and nerve ending crackling with energy just waiting to be released. As she quivered against him she marveled at the nature of arousal itself. The body's response to fear was not so different from its reaction to desire. She felt lost within her own body, drifting in a place that was not entirely familiar.

"Who are you?" she murmured, voice throbbing with emotion.

There was such a long pause that she thought he would not answer, but then he growled harshly, "Your nightmare."

He withdrew the hand that had been teasing her depths and closed his fingers with bruising force around her hips. He hefted her body farther up on top of the piano and fit himself against her. The touch of his fingers was nothing compared to the feeling of his very warm, very hard length sliding slickly along her inner lips. He had been right she realized with a dark flush. She was more than ready for him.

Relena keened in the back of her throat as he pushed inside her and her muscles stretched to accommodate him. He pressed openmouthed kisses across the tops of her shoulders, his breath moist, hot, and panting against her skin. She hoped he choked on her hair.

With a soft groan, he looped his arms about her legs to better stabilize her and began to move. Her body slid forward and back a few inches across the top of the piano with each thrust. Her breasts rubbed against the wood through the lace of the bustier with exquisite friction, causing her nipples to become almost painfully tight.

Relena could not stop the moans that bubbled in her throat, and his hands massaged her thighs as he encouraged her. "That's it. Make noise, princess. Just like that. There's no one to hear you scream but me."

The sex was wild, primitive, dangerous, and dark, and she should not have liked it but she did. He knew how to touch, how to inflict pleasure as well as pain, and there was something so stimulating in the tightly controlled violence that he had exhibited.

"Please, Heero--Oh, sir! I meant sir!" she cried with alarm as he drove into her with particular force, a curse bursting force from his lips.

The stream of curses continued as his thrusts became faster and harder, a stream of invective pouring from the lips marking every inch of her skin that he could reach. Relena scrabbled for a purchase on the piano, but her limbs although electrified were heavy and uncoordinated and her fingers grasped futilely against the smooth wood. Her moans turned into steady, sharp cries as the ache building between her legs spiraled up through her torso to her swollen breasts. She thrashed against him, shoving back against his body as best as she could until the building pressure in her exploded in a fire burst of pure energy and sensation. Her back arched tight as a drawn bow and her mouth opened on a silent scream as he spent himself inside her with a guttural groan that bore a slight resemblance to the syllables of her name.

Relena collapsed and pressed her forehead against the blessedly cool piano. There would be a bruise across her stomach later. And on her hips and thighs and arms and quite likely on her neck and shoulders if the force of his lips and teeth there had been any indication. It was ridiculous, insane, and more than a little disturbing, but she had never felt more wanton.

She chuckled weakly and began the laborious process of curling one outstretched arm towards her face as she muttered wryly, "You could get off of me now."

The man sprawled atop her mumbled something against her hair, before straightening stiffly. His calloused, young man's hands brushed hers away from the blindfold and removed the scrap of black material from her head, before pulled her off of the piano by her elbows.

"Are you all right?" he asked as she sagged against him.

"What is a nightmare but a dream that leaves you unsettled? And, you my dear Heero, are quite adept at unsettling me." She twisted her head against Heero's shoulder and glanced up at him coyly. "I'd be better after a kiss. And what on earth is wrong with you voice?"

Heero glared at her, but she was so used to it that it had no other effect except to amuse her. "It turns out that I am allergic to that tree."

Relena turned and stared out the window at the apple tree thoughtfully. "Really? You don't mind being exposed to an allergen regularly, do you, Heero? I could buy some apple blossom oil or lotion or something for when they are not in season. I thought you sounded quite sinful."

He growled, and she giggled, turning in his arms and brushing her lips across his as she carefully tucked him back into his pants and fastened them back up. "I was kidding. Thank you for going along with this crazy idea of mine. I know it made you very uncomfortable."

"You just have to uphold your end of the bargain now." Heero's hands plucked futilely at the shoulders of the dress he had destroyed. "You nearly gave Pagan a heart attack when you met him at his room in that outfit. What did you tell him?"

"To clear the house out for the day so the servants would not be alarmed by anything that should happen to go on." Relena shrugged. "And what you said we were going to spend the day doing. He was rather horrified though, wasn't he?"

"Did you enjoy it, Relena?" Heero demanded bluntly, cupping her chin and forcing her eyes to meet his.

She pressed her lips together nervously. "I think I did actually. Because I knew it was you and I knew you wouldn't really hurt me. Even when you're forceful, you're a very considerate lover. Also because I knew it wasn't real and because I knew it was my idea to begin with. But if any of those things had been different, Heero, I wouldn't have enjoyed it at all. I would have been terrified out of my mind."

"Good," he replied solemnly. "That's very sensible of you."

Relena's eyes narrowed.

"Now that I've assaulted you as you requested, we will take a short break to re-hydrate and you will learn how to prevent an assault and how to defend yourself if necessary as we agreed."

"Yes, Heero." She smiled up at him wickedly as she rubbed a hand across her sore stomach. "I think I just might enjoy beating up on the bad guy this time."

"Not as much as I'll enjoy knowing you can protect yourself," he muttered under his breath as he put one hand at the small of her back and propelled her toward the kitchen. "Now where do you keep the antihistamines?"


End file.
